Archive for the ‘lists’ Category

FUCK

Fuck you, haters. We will do this. (Photo credit: Jone Samsa)

Now that it’s the fourth of January, I will assume that everyone’s hangover has finally worn off* and that you’re ready to grab this year by the frigid snowballs. You’re fired up and ready to kick this year’s ass all around the block while it’s still got than new year smell.

Well, I’m with you. In spite of the bone-numbing cold, January is a hopeful time. We want to change, and we’re willing to try. Good for us. But we need a plan, or we won’t get far. If your resolutions included anything about writing, here’s a plan for you.**

1. Solidify that motherfucker. It’s no good saying, “I want to write more” or “I want to explore more styles”. It’s too fucking vague, and therefore easy to ignore. So get out a pen and paper and make a list. How much more? Do you have a goal you’re shooting for? Maybe finish a novel this year? Or do you want to write something everyday, even if it’s just the word ‘fuck’ a hundred times in different fonts? This is why I attached a number to my rejections. It makes it real.

2. Research and plan, lest you be devoured by the nibbly rabbits of indecision. You wouldn’t set out to become an elephant wrangler in 2013 without knowing where the elephants are, would you? You wouldn’t decide to run a marathon without figuring out how long it is. Writing is no different. Do your research. How long will it take to write that novel working at a speed you’re comfortable with? How many places are looking for the material you have to submit? What are the hallmarks of the space-opera style, and who are some of its greatest writers? Once you know a little more—not everything, just a little—you can make a plan of attack. You’ll need one, because a plan is what you can fall back on when the motivation fails. And it will. I fucking guarantee it. But that doesn’t mean it’s the end. It just means you need to keep going, and a plan will keep you on the right path.

3. But sooner or later, you’ve just got to fucking do it. It’s easy to let the research and planning part overtake everything else. You don’t want to start until you feel ready, but the more you research the less ready you feel. Before you know it, it’s March and you’ve made no progress. So you give up. Welcome to most New Year’s resolutions, which die in an elephant’s graveyard of discouragement.
Not this time. Set a date and stick to it. Maybe the first two weeks of the new year can be devoted to research and planning, but after that, you get moving, whether you’re ready or not. Pull the trigger and see where the bullet lands instead of trying to calculate it beforehand. Learn as you go. If you fuck up, the lessons will just stick more. Don’t lose the momentum that comes from the new year. Use it to push yourself out the door before you’re entirely comfortable and go.

4. Log some wins. This is a mental trick I learned last year. We are what we repeatedly do, and we’re most likely to repeat things that make us feel like we’re winning.
Personal example: I usually get between 2000 and 3000 words a day when working. But do you know what’s on my checklist every morning? ‘Write 500 words.’ That’s it. I write that, which takes me around half a hour on average, and I can check that off. It’s considered done. Most times, I go on to write several assloads more than that, but the little goal—the very achievable goal—allows me to do it every day and build up some steam, even on the shittiest of days. I feel pumped. I feel like I won. And you know what I want to do when I feel like that? Write more.
So make a small goal, one that you know you can achieve, and make it consistent. Before you know it, the new thing will be a habit, and habits are hard to break.

5. Enjoy the process. It’s not all about the finish line. It’s not even mostly about the finish line. New Year’s resolutions are supposed to be about change, and change is a process. So enjoy the little moments along the way. Enjoy that first finish chapter, or that first page of a short story. Enjoy learning new things about the secrets of elephant trainers. Enjoy the feeling of fingers on keys and your brain on fire. The finish line can wait; enjoy the scenery while you pass.
So get out there and start, people. Knock it out of the park and don’t look back. I’m pulling for you.

*Or you killed yourself to escape from it. Seriously, four day hangovers: not fun.
**Actually, this could be adapted to most anything. But let’s stick with writing on the blog and pretend we’re staying on topic.

Procrastination Meter

Redlining yet standing still. (Photo credit: Emilie Ogez)

…That I may or may not have done this week.

1) Clean. Because you know how you hate doing that shit at any other time. Besides, you’re wired to the gills on caffeine. Might as well used that crack-like high to do something productive. Like strip the paint from the walls.

2) Cook. Because right in the middle of a tense scene is a great time to try out that new recipe for braised short ribs. That takes five hours. And intense prep work. And a last-minute grocery run.

3) Exercise. Totally not running away from the story. Just… being healthy. Outdoors. In November. In the sleet.

4) Figure out what’s making that weird noise in the corner of the kitchen. Answer: not a monster. A very old heating pipe. Subdue disappointment and put away monster fighting gear.

5) Finish nearly all of your Xmas shopping. I can be ahead on at least one thing. Now to send them out before next year.

6) Doodle a bunch of character sketches. It’s kind of like working on the story, right?

7) Watch every Gangnam-style video made. The resulting brain haemorrhage will be a merciful death.

8) Re-watch Firefly. Because why the hell not. Also, I could watch that guy get kicked into the jet engine all fucking day.

9) Meaningless personal grooming rituals. Re-dye hair. Give self manicure. See if I can use a Sharpie to connect my freckles into something interesting. (So far: lots of triangles.)

10) Read articles on how to avoid being distracted when writing. Refuse to acknowledge the irony until it just starts to feel awkward and goes away on its own.

11) Conquer the known world. Save unknown world for next week.

12) Finally admit that you have the attention span of a three-year-old on pixie sticks. Get more coffee. Holster up the battle ovaries. Get the fuck back to work.

…I may have some catching up to do.

English: Flail illustration

Artist’s Conception of Battle Ovary (Not Shown To Scale) (Photo Credit: Wikipedia)

 

Yes, I heard the collective groan. I know it’s only November, but I have it on good authority that December will follow shortly after. Which is why I started my Christmas shopping last month, before the stores became a sea of chaos.* Normally I love chaos, but I dislike taking a stranger’s elbow to the spleen in the chocolate aisle.

Anyway, I’m here to help. Writers can be hard to shop for. Here’s a list of some of the must have items for this (or any other) year:

More Words: Anyone doing a large writing project** will appreciate this, because after you cross a certain threshold, the words start to run out. I personally notice it around the 2,000 words/day mark. Spending all those words on writing means I have far fewer left for things like email, IM, or conversation. Communication may be reduced to grunting. So when I’m doing 3,000 words/day, as I am now…let’s just say this is a gift that keeps on giving.

Books: This may seem like a no-brainer, but there are two sorts that are the best gifts. One, really good books that encourage us to write to a higher level***, and two, really shitty ones that make us exclaim, “This word abortion got published?” One of each makes an amusing dichotomy.

Patience: Because, goddamnit, that stupid selfish manuscript did not finish itself while I was sleeping last night. What the fuck is up with that? And I’ve still got to get through all this boring crap before I can write that big fight scene.
…You know what? Let’s consider this a gift for both of us.

Caffeine: Because, since the manuscript didn’t finish itself, now I have to do it. Which means I need to put a wooden block under my brain’s brake pedal.

Ink Cartridges: Do you know how much ink it takes to print off a novel manuscript?

Reproductive Organs of Mental Fortitude: In guys, this is commonly known as balls. For ladies, I’ve decided to coin the term “battle ovaries”. Whichever kind you’ve got****, learn to holster them up, because there’s still a lot of hard work ahead after the holidays have passed. So get in there and sound off like you got a pair. A pair of what is up to you.

*Point of fact: I actually do most of my shopping online these days. It comes right to my door (or someone else’s) and half the time comes gift-wrapped. I love that shit. It leaves me more time to get on with the important parts of the holiday season, like drinking and watching James Bond movies.

**CoughNaNoWriMocough.

***Or fall into a pit of despair. Either way.

****If you have both, you’re ahead of the game.

English: Pleiades Star Cluster

Look at them getting it done. Smug bastards.(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

1) The World Spins On. Contrary to many, many, many predictions to the contrary, the world has not yet ended. At least not by the time of this writing. The earth continues to spin, and so do the stars and the atoms. They’re clearly doing their job. What’s your excuse?

2) You Will Never Be Here Again. The words you might write today will never come again. Not those exact words, in that exact way. This is your only chance to catch them, now, before they disappear forever. They might be great. They might suck, too, but at least if you write them, you’ll know. And would you want to miss out on the chance of doing something amazing?

3) Give Birth To An Idea. Enjoy the power that comes with the pure act of creation. It’s all the creative potential of having a kid without the mess. And if you change your mind about an idea, you can just change it later. Or delete it. They frown on doing that with kids. Or so I hear.

4) Bragging Rights. It’s Friday. That means the weekend’s coming. When you’re out hanging out with friends this weekend and someone asks what you’ve been doing lately, don’t you want to be able to say, “Oh, not much. I just started a new novel/short story/screen play/poem.”? And then put on your sunglasses even though you’re indoors. Bad ass.

5) Knock One Off The Regret List. We arrive here with a return ticket already bought. We just don’t know when we’re going to catch that train. People regret a lot of shit when they die. Will you regret never having made time for something that mattered to you? Will you regret dying with stories untold? It’s a great day to go and fucking do something about it. It’s within your grasp. So get up off the mat like Buster Douglas coming for Mike Tyson and knock that shit out.

Some Reload -energy drink bottles.

Shown: Creativity Fuel (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

(Before we begin, a correction: you can use this checklist for any new novel project you’re starting, not just those that take place during NaNo. But post titles can only be so long before they start looking ridiculous.)

Good morning, soldier. I see you’re getting kitted out for another mission into First Draft Land. It’s a dangerous country out there, full of plot holes and fact mines. There are places where your creativity is going to bottom out on a dirt road far from anywhere you want to be. So, to increase you chances of survival completing your mission, you should make sure you have the following things in your supply cache:

Stimulant Delivery System: We recommend caffeine, both for its ease of access and myriad of delivery mechanisms, which includes coffee, tea, chocolate, energy drinks, gum, soap, and those little white pills truckers take. Those of you who choose nicotine instead should be warned that, although the author quit smoking years ago, on a bad day she will still drag you out back and beat you to death with a tire iron just to steal that cigarette from your cold, dead hands.

Notebooks: For character details, setting maps, plot points, grocery lists, and the occasional tear-soaked missive about how much you hate writing.

Recording Apparatus: The preferred method these days is the computer word-processor, but acceptable alternatives include typewriters (electric and mechanical), another notebook, random sheets of paper, and the walls of your cell. However, keep in mind that verification will be difficult for some of these methods.

Distraction Filter: Ranging from the ability to screen phone calls and email alerts to a very supportive spouse who will field any and all household crises. If your Distraction Filter takes the form of another human being, be warned that they may require paying or some other form of compensation.

Music: Include high-energy for those stimulant-induced burst of creativity, instrumental for days in the zone, and whiny emo bullshit for the low points. Running mascara optional but highly encouraged.

Guts: Because sooner or later all the shit listed above will stop working. You’ll be tired. You’ll run out of inspiration. You’ll have to take phone calls from that guy you hate. And you’ll think, It’d be a lot easier just to give up right now. And the kicker is that it will be.
There’s only on thing that will keep you going then: a certain deep-down contrariness, a willingness to grind it out. So do a check and make sure you have it on hand. Because, out there, in the wilds where the roads disappear…you’re going to need it.

Crystal ball Français : Boule de cristal

I’ve actually known two girls named Crystal Ball. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Naming characters is like naming kids: you should do it with care and preferably without making yourself giggle. Everyone knew that one kid in school whose parents were clearly tripping the good shit when they picked up that baby-name book. Daffodil or You-nique or Blade or whatever, I never knew one of them who didn’t want to secretly knife their parents in the eye. And, let’s face it, they had a point. You should restrain your desire to hinder your children through life when you pick a name for them. I know it’s difficult.

In fiction-world, similar rules apply. A poorly-chosen name jars the reader out of the story, making them work to get back in. How many times will that happen before they give up? Besides, your characters will probably have more than enough reasons to want to kill you without adding a shitty, overly-clever name to the list.

So here I present my Commandments For Naming. Follow well and break at your peril:

1. Thou Shalt Not Give Thy Characters Adorable, Twee Names. Examples of this sin include shit like Rosh Bush, Crystal Ball, or Sunny Day. These are names for either children’s toys or porn stars.* No one will take that character seriously. Unless it is an integral part of the plot that everyone thinks the character is as useful as a teacup pig, leave it out.

2. Thou Shalt Not Alliterate To Hell And Back. A little is fine, occasionally.** Peter Parker, Lois Lane, whatever. I can deal. J. Jonah Jameson? Eh, now you’re pushing it. Hiram Henry Harrison-Higgenbottom the Hundred-and-Ninth? We got a problem. And one of your keyboard keys might commit suicide before the story’s over.

3. Thou Shalt Think Really, Really Hard Before Using That ’Cool’ Name. Nicholas Cage can’t get away with naming his kid Kal-El. Neither can you. And you shouldn’t. Do you really want to be known as the entitled douche-canoe who thinks it’s more important to express personal pop-culture likes than to give their child a slim chance of not being the target of mockery?
Applies to characters, too. Once again, unless being picked on for having a weird name is a part of their character, think twice. Or thrice. In fact, if you have to think that hard, maybe pick something else.

4. If Thou Art Making Up Names, Thou Shalt Try To Vary The Sounds, Lest Thy Characters Become Anonymous Blobs. Okay, I get that alien/fantasy names should sound…well, different. And there should be a theme, of sorts. The names should clearly come from some kind of common background.*** But that doesn’t mean every alien’s name has to start with a K and have two syllables. Otherwise, you’re going to find it hard to keep Kalin, Korin, Kavit, Keris, and Kolat straight. And how do you think the reader will fare?
Give other species the benefit of the doubt: allow them to discover the entire range of sounds available to the human and non-human mouth. You can keep a name-family together without relying them being similar to the point of homogeneity.

4. B) If Thou Art Making Up Names, Try To Make Them At Least Marginally Pronounceable By Humans. All right, I get that your aliens have two tongues and a detachable jaw, so it’s no trouble for them to pronounce Kpw’’rzec!tl. I, on the other hand, will get annoyed by the sixth time I see it written down. And I can only imagine how any humanoid characters feel.
A possible solution, if you’re set on having unpronounceable names, is to have the human (or human-like, whatever) characters give the others nicknames. Kpw’’rzec!tl up there could become Zec to a frustrated co-worker. Not saying Zec would like it, but then that tension could be another dimension to their relationship. And maybe the reason Zec eventually stabs someone with a piece of rebar.

Naming: do it carefully. Or else.****

*Amazing how often those two cross over.
**And the fact that my name is alliterative has nothing to do with this.
***Interesting that we usually have this requirement of non-humans, but not of ourselves. But wouldn’t there be different cultures and tribes of a single species on an alien planet/fantasy world as well? And wouldn’t they think each other’s names are weird? Just a thought.
****And, for those of you who need a further demonstration, I invite you to check out this comic on the dangers of angering appellomancers, or name wizards. Comic not safe for work or those of a delicate disposition. Be warned.

Sleep FUTAB

Pictured: another option for November. (Photo credit: code_martial)

It’s coming again: NaNoWriMo.* I’ve done it four of the last five years, and I’m going to do it this year. I’m already in the planning phase, getting all my characters and outlines and reference materials sorted.** Others don’t bother with that part, preferring to just wing it. To each their own, and my own includes colour-coded tabs and a box of index cards.

Those of you new to the idea may be wondering, like I did back in ’07, if you should sign up and take the plunge. There’s lot of opinions on both sides, and some of them are pretty damn vehement. It can be hard to decide, so here’s what I’m going to do. I’ll write two posts: one detailing the reasons you should do it, and one the reasons you should skip it. Then you can decide for yourself.

*Flips coin* Okay, here it is: Four Reasons You Should Skip NaNoWriMo:

1. You crumble under pressure. There’s a big push to finish, with a daily word count to meet. And if you get a day or two behind, that word count piles up fucking fast. If that’s the sort of thing that would keep you up at nights or induce panic attacks, you might not be suited to this kind of race. And then there’s the timing to consider. November is a great month to write for me***, but your schedule might be different. If your month is already packed to the gills with holiday prep, then piling more on top might give you that coronary you always wanted just in time for Christmas.

2. You think it’ll make you finally feel like a real writer. You may need therapy, not NaNoWriMo. Hitting the space bar 50,000 times in 30 days does not make you a ‘real’ writer, whatever that means. It doesn’t make you anything other than someone who finished something that was a certain length in a certain time. And, you know, good for you. But this is not the Blue Fairy that makes you into a real boy. That doesn’t exist. Sorry. You have to do this because you really want to and because you love to write. Anything else, including the search for legitimacy, will likely lead to disappointment.
However, it can prepare you for what it feels like to be a working writer and have to meet serious deadlines. You’ll get a front row seat to the rush and the slog, the days when you fly and the days when you’d rather set the computer on fire than look at it again. Maybe it’ll help you decide if that’s something you want to do for a living, or if you’d rather keep it as a hobby.

3. You prefer to work slowly. Everyone works at their own pace and in their own way. Maybe you’re one of those writers who prefers to pick every word carefully, examine it, and then place it exactly where you want it. Maybe a good writing day for you is 100 words. Or less. But everything you make is exactly what you intended it to be right out of the gate. I envy you that; no goddamn rewriting. It might take longer to finish, but when you do, you know it’s what you want. Long as you’re finishing, there’s no wrong way to write a book. And for some, the breakneck pace of NaNoWriMo might be less productive, not more.

4. You just don’t want to. People get….shall we say, drawn in by the enthusiasm of NaNo participants sometimes. We’re a zealous lot. All bright enthusiasm and too-direct stares. Join us, we say. You’ll like it. And you might. But don’t get sucked in by the peer pressure. One, it means you just got bullied by a bunch of fucking writers, which is embarrassing for all of us. Two, it really will be an endless slog if you’re not jazzed for it. And that will probably taint whatever story you were working on to the point of ruining it. If you think you might like it, then sure. But if you know that’s not how you work, then remember those old commercials: just say no.

Feel free to disagree, vehemently or otherwise, in the comments. And don’t forget to check out Friday’s post: Four Reasons You Should Do NaNoWriMo.

*For those of you who don’t know, NaNoWriMo is a yearly event in which writers get together and pledge to write 50,000 words in the month of November. Stands for ‘National Novel Writing Month’.
**Mostly because I’m a huge nerd. I actually cleaned my desk Monday just to get it ready. And because it was getting to be an eyesore. But, hey, I found ten complete sets of dice in there.
*** Very good, actually, because it makes use of a month I otherwise loathe. November and February: worst months of the year.

English: Illustration from an early edition of...

I’ve got your white whale right here. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

So, my friend Kat, who blog over here, was reading Fifty Shades of Grey* and texting me some of the more hilarious lines.** And she mentioned that a friend of hers had jokingly told her to write Fifty Shades of Dorian Grey as her next writing project.

…You probably see where this is going.

So, purely as a creative exercise, we began coming up with titles for erotic versions of classic novels. And now I’ve come up with plots for some of them. Again, purely creative.

Stop judging me.

So here’s the highlights (and maybe your new summer reading list):

Moby’s Dick: Captain Ahab realizes his obsession with the ‘white whale’ is just a Freudian misdirect to avoid dealing with his dual attraction to the wandering sailor Ishmael and the handsome harpooner Queequag.*** When the boat is far out to sea, he begins his ‘hunt’…

The Caning of the Shrew: When his attempt at courtship fails, Petruchio must find a new way to woo the bad-tempered dominatrix Katerina. An introduction to the world of BDSM gives him a new plan: become her latest sub.

The Gropes of Wrath: On the road to California, Tom Joad encounters a frisky parole officer bent on returning him to Oklahoma. His only way to remain with his family is to give the officer something else to chase.

She Poops to Conquer: A comedy of manners, as a young woman posing as a house maid discovers her lover’s scatological fetish while cleaning the bathrooms.

The Hos of Kilimanjaro: This collection of short stories details the adventures of a group of loose women, from the bored socialite on safari with ‘interesting’ people to the young woman who was a man’s first lover and “did first what no one ever did better”.

Think you can do better? Tell me in the comments. Or, better yet, write it. And then submit**** it to the same publishers that did Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. Clearly there’s a market here. We just need to tap it.

*Don’t judge her. She’s a librarian, so technically she was reading it for work. Or so she tells me.
**Seriously, there’s a shitload. Don’t mistake me: I like erotica. Hell, I did my master’s thesis on it. But I like well-written erotica, and this ain’t it.
***Man the harpoons. If you know what I mean.
****I just cannot get my mind out of the gutter now.

"Study drawing shows the allegorical figu...

“God, I can’t believe I have 49 more shades of grey to get through. Maybe reading in the nude will make this seem like less of a piece of shit.” (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

When temperatures rise and the television becomes a hopeless vortex of reruns and boredom, people start turning to books again. Most people have a stack that they want to get done between the end of June and the beginning of September. Well, to help you get organized, here’s a list of the four most common specimens:

1. That Book You’ve Been Meaning To Read: Everyone’s got one. It can usually be identified by its presence on a bookshelf, covered in dust, but with a curiously pristine spine. No dog-eared pages, no coffee stains, no notes in the margins. Usually weighs more than the cat, or possibly two cats if you picked up this particular book in a lit class in university. You know it’ll be good for you to read it. Hell, it’s a fucking classic! People are probably judging you right now because you haven’t read it. You’ve just got to get around to it. And maybe stop using it to prop up your couch. Chances of completing: 1/6, unless Armageddon happens and there’s nothing else to do. Then 1.25/6.

2. That Book You Pretend You’re Not Reading: You’re so fucking embarrassed to be reading this one. Often sketchy, incredibly popular but also hated, this is the book you badmouth on the internet. But you heard so much about it that eventually your curiosity got the better of you and you started reading. You’d just die if anyone caught you reading this, which is why you either do it on an e-reader, so no one can see the cover, or in the privacy of your own home. In bed. Under the covers. With a flashlight. Chances of completing: 5/6, but you’ll develop a nervous twitch.

3. The Wild Card: It lured you in with its flashy cover and catchy title, and you added it to the stack. Now it’s time for it to prove what it’s made of or get the fuck out of Dodge. Chances of completing: Roll a dice. Take off two points if the protagonist has an endearingly obscure hobby (luthier, competitive origami, artisanal sex-swing constructor) or if the words ‘nuclear reactor’ are involved anywhere in the back cover copy. Add one if there’s lots of sex/violence/witty dialogue.

4. The Old Favourite: You’re read this book so many times it’s falling apart. Rounded corners, broken spine, herds of old book marks lost in the pages…but you love it anyway. Maybe the summer you first read it, you were having a good one. Or maybe it’s just a damn good book. Either way, when the mercury rises, you find yourself searching your shelf for it once again, thinking that maybe this is the year you finally update to a new copy, one that isn’t held together with a rubber band and a prayer. But you never do, until it finally gives up the ghost and drops into a watery grave in the kiddie pool. Farewell, old friend. Chances of reading: 6/6, and then you’re going to have to buy a new copy and give the old one a proper burial.

Taking it Slow

Posted: June 20, 2012 in lists, writing
Tags: , , ,
English: rose bunch, Rosa sp. cultivars, flowe...

I got that idea some roses. Ideas love roses. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I woke up the other day with an Idea. I know this is the cliche of writers, that brilliant lightbulb moment upon awakening, but, I have to say, this never happens to me. My dreams are…well, let’s just say they’re not terribly useful for writing. Unless I decide to have a go at surrealist horror. Then I’ll be prepared.

Anyway, this idea. It’s really the opening couple of chapters to a book, complete with the two main characters and a couple of supporting ones. It’s the beginning of a story.

So. Now what?

Yeah, I could just jump in and start WRITING ALL THE THINGS. And you can get things done that way, no joke.  But a lot of the time I’ll end up driving the excitement of that high-octane creative burst right into a concrete retaining wall. And that’ll be the end of that story idea. I will have destroyed it in my eagerness and desperation, like a teenage boy who just can’t keep his damn hands to himself on a date and ends up kicked in the junk. Except in my brain. No one wants to get kicked in the brain-junk.

This is just an idea right now. A good one, I think, but it’s not a whole story. There’s a whole list of shit that needs to be done before I can start writing in earnest.

1. Character development: I have an idea of who two of the main characters are, but they’re not complete yet. Who are their families? Do they have any? What kind of social circles do they move in? What are their bad habits? How do they take their tea? I might not need to answer all of these, but I’ll definitely need to answer some before they’re a real person. And I need some other people, too.

2. Story Development: I have the idea of what happens in the first couple of chapters. One of the characters has ended up in a very bad situation that she needs the other character’s help correcting. But I think there’s more to it than that; this bad situation is only part of a larger bad situation that affects a lot more people. But I have no idea what that larger situation is yet. Seems like something I might need to know before writing the novel. Otherwise, it’s a short story, and not a great one.

3. Setting: That workshop I went to on creating place will come in handy here. I get the impression that the setting will be very important to this story. At the very least, it’s going to influence the pace and nature of events. Some time spent developing that and creating a sense of it in my own mind will go a long way toward making the story—and the characters—concrete.

4. Outlining: About two-thirds of you just groaned, but I’ll ignore you for the moment. Outlining is important. I need one to write anything longer than five pages. Otherwise, I get so caught up in what’s happening right now that I forget where I’m going. That’s where long, loosely-connected story arcs get introduced. And, yeah, sometimes they can be interesting. But most of the time, they lead me astray. And by the time I get back on track, I’ve lost whatever feel I had for the characters and the story. Story telling is like herding cats: they keep trying to wander off and you can only control about 60% of them at any given time. But try to stay on track or you’ll never get them to the cat-barn. Or wherever it is people are going when they herd cats. Cattery? Cat house? No, that’s something different. The point: I need an outline. And I don’t have one yet.

I probably will end up doing some writing over the next few months on this story. Small scenes, mostly, things that I’ll use to get a feel for characters and the story itself. But officially, writing won’t start until November. That’s right: NaNoWriMo time. This year, I’m getting the groundwork done early.

And in the meantime, I’ll just keep sweet-talking that idea.